


Tivvy Drabbles

by captainmeow



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainmeow/pseuds/captainmeow
Summary: Tivvy Esheren, an adventurous halfling lass, discovers an unusual guest in the forest during a business outing.A small one-shot written so my husband can finally read my writing. :)





	Tivvy Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of my husband, my biggest fan! Happy birthday!

The afternoon light colored the forest floor a dappled gold and sable, beams of sunlight breaking through dense foliage overhead, and shadows shifted at the touch of a passing breeze. Cicadas echoed in the warm, humid air, the summer trademark accompanied by the occasional warble from a bird somewhere in the treetops. Nature was at ease today, and Tivvy liked it best this way.

Crouched close to the ground and concealed in brush adjacent to a towering oak, Tivvy unraveled two coils of rope. She had brought little with her for this trek into the woods, the majority of her knapsack strained mostly by Wugg's lethargic form. Assorted tools, all custom forged to suit her halfling hands, hung from loops on her belt, and she was careful not to jostle them as she worked with the rope, deftly forming a Carrick bend with two ends.

A wagon was due by midday, and her sources guaranteed that there would be a prized and rare artifact in the cargo. While Tivvy was not fond of the notion of burglary, her client had assured her that the object in question had originally belonged to him and was something of a family heirloom--an ivory statuette; it was only fair that the poor man be reunited with such a sentimental piece of treasure.

Basic investigation had yielded convenient results. All trade routes through this forest bottle-necked at the path before her. This wasn't a place typically ransacked by monsters or bandits, and the element of surprise would be her advantage. All she needed was to finish some preparatory work.

Satisfied with her knot after a few firm, testing yanks, Tivvy crawled around the base of the oak's impressive trunk and looped one end of the rope's now-doubled length into another complicated knot. The rope would need to withstand considerable force, and she tugged at this knot as roughly as the first. Her entire plan was contingent on this rope. There could be no faults.

Just as Tivvy moved to cross the path and enter the cover of another shrub, a lull fell over the cicadas high above her, and she froze in place, half suspended over a thick, protruding root. The wagon wasn't due for another hour, she figured, but the forest was never so quiet without the presence of either an outsider or a predator.

The abrupt hush turned out to be due to the latter. Lumbering, heavy steps thumped against the hardened soil of the path as the imposing figure of a bear approached. Tivvy was suddenly more aware of Wugg's weight on her back and she hoped that he would remain contentedly at rest. The last thing she wanted to do was engage such a fearsome predator just before an ambush, and her companion had been known to sabotage a stealth mission out of sheer boredom; but Wugg remained still and quiet against her, his breathing full and slow, and he might have been sleeping for how quiet he was. She could manage to hold her position for a while longer, and the bear already had begun to sniff the air in visible interest of another direction. Another minute or two, and the danger would excuse itself.

It was Tivvy herself who gave them away. An insidious sensation tingled behind the bridge of her nose, and it flooded into her nasal cavities next. The urge to sneeze, try as she might to deny it, was overwhelming, and Tivvy felt a dread grip her stomach as she helplessly emptied her lungs into the air with a shriek.

Instantly, the bear turned towards her, nostrils flaring. Tivvy swallowed down a curse and weighed her options. If there was any hope of a diversion, the window of opportunity was small and immediate; failing that, she doubted that she could outrun a bear no matter how nimble she was. There were some disadvantages to a halfling's stature, short legs the most unfortunate at present. Combat was the least desirable course of action, with only two daggers currently at her disposal, and she didn't want to endanger Wugg with an opponent several times his size. But now that the bear's attention was piqued, there was no hope for her to reclaim this spot without a fight.

Spurred by a lack of time to do much else, the bear's sniffing snout only inches away, its hulking limbs crushing the cover of the plants around her, Tivvy released the rope onto the ground and readied herself. With each weighted step of the bear, Tivvy willed herself to wait until at last, just before her, its nose presented itself. In abandonment of traditional behavior when one was face to face with a bear, Tivvy seized the bear by the nose, her small halfling fingers curling into the holes of its nostrils, and she pulled outwards with as much strength as she could muster.

Whatever the bear had expected, it hadn't been that. Its body reared backwards from Tivvy's assault on its muzzle, the full extent of its height far higher than even the tallest human Tivvy had seen, and she dangled dangerously over its maw as she desperately hung onto its nose. An outraged roar sounded out from its jaws, an indignant bellow promising retaliation, and for the first time, Wugg stirred from his cozy nap.

"Hold on, Wugg!" Tivvy shouted at him. She couldn't risk dropping down to the ground from this height, but with the bear positioned to shake her loose into its deadly jowls, she had to move. With a strained grunt, Tivvy twisted and threw her legs up enough so that she found footing on the bear's shoulder. It was just enough for her to clamber up onto the back of its head, where she grabbed fistfuls of coarse fur and hung on as tightly as she could.

Any expectation of furtiveness was discarded as, precariously mounted atop a rampaging bear's crown, Tivvy released a squeal of excitement. They thundered about the clearing, unwilling partners of an irritated dance, Tivvy pressed low onto the bear's head, the beast swiping at its head as one swats at a fly. She wouldn't be safe there for long, she knew; the air hummed overhead as another fatal swipe just missed her, and the next stroke of its paw would surely render her helpless. If only she had a useful spell for the situation! If only she had been able to learn the tongue of beasts before this outing!

Before she was violently unseated, Tivvy slid backwards and began an unsteady climb down the bear's back. Her arms and hands ached, and her palms stung with sweat and dust, but there was no time to be delicate. Wugg's head warily poked out from her knapsack and she felt his nose bump into her shoulder as he surveyed their precarious circumstance.

"Mornin', Wugg! We've angered a bear," she informed him cheekily, even as her hands and feet began to slip from the force of the bear's movements. The larger animal tottered and landed on all fours, head angled towards her, but it was unable to reach her now. Tivvy grasped new mounds of fur and righted herself, feeling like those rodeo performers she had heard about in some human cities; but there was little enjoyment to be had in riding a disgruntled bear, though what a tale it would make if she lived to tell it! She could picture Sire Esheren's dark face wrinkling with amusement at the thought of her plastered on a bear's face. But if she intended to share any stories, she needed to get herself out of this predicament first.

Tivvy awkwardly steered them off of the road, hands furiously yanking the bear's fur and flesh to the side. Bellowing protests and threats the entire way, it lurched towards the undergrowth, and she narrowly avoided colliding into a low branch in the process. The bear stampeded some distance away until, as if just now remembering Tivvy was still seated on its back, it flung itself against the nearest tree, obviously intending to dislodge its unwanted rider.

It was just the opening Tivvy needed. Timing herself with the impact, she vaulted up and grabbed hold onto a drooping vine wrapped around a wooden limb. There was no time to see what the bear might do now that it was free of her; the halfling dared to scale the tree even higher and into a sprawling network of branches. Even if the bear followed her, its weight wouldn't be supported; she was light enough, but she was pushing her luck with Wugg's added weight on her back. The trees creaked their protests, but she chose her footing carefully and made her way across to an adjacent tree without incident, and she headed back in the direction of the road.

However unfortunate the encounter had been with the bear, it did not pursue her, and Tivvy was grateful that the outcome turned out as it did. With an urgency due to loss of precious time, she made quick work of the other half of her snare. Now all that was left was to wait.

Perched a stone's throw ahead on the path, she counted leaves and fingered at the daggers at her side, until at last Tivvy heard the telltale rattling of wagon wheels in the distance. Soon after, two horse heads poked up over the horizon, over the sloping trail, and she caught sight of a hooded figure seated in the wagon with both reigns in hand. From the look of it, the shoulders wide and the build tall, Tivvy guessed it was another human male, but there was no way of telling from her spot in the trees. It wasn't the driver she after, though.

The outline of six sizable crates pressed against a cloth that had been draped over the cargo, presumably to shield it from weather and prying eyes. Tivvy figured that anything with a rumor of rare treasure would at least be locked if not warded with some enchantment, and she squinted at the wagon as it came closer.

"Let me see," she whispered to herself, groping at threads of magic about her. Even a novice could sense magic if they tried hard enough, and Tivvy had the advantage of stealth; it was unlikely that the driver would be casting the same spell as her as he pulled up, though he might notice the rope drawn across the road. But that would only buy her time, which was all she needed.

It was meant to be quick work. A moment of distraction, and she could creep down, slip under the covers, and discreetly search through the cargo for her prize.

The cargo was unguarded, no sign of ward on any of the six boxes. She blessed her luck, and Tivvy prepared to drop down from her hiding place as soon as the driver halted at the obstacle ahead. Everything seemed to be going according to plan.

The horses nickered as the reigns were pulled back, and the driver stood once the wagon rolled to a stop. It seemed somehow taller than before, peculiar and cloaked, and the figure lighted off the wagon lip with an unnatural stiffness. An eerie feeling crept into Tivvy's belly, but she endeavored to ignore it. This was the moment she had waited for, her chance to sneak into the cargo and claim the artifact.

Conscious of Wugg's sudden wriggling, Tivvy began to lower herself off of the branch when she saw it. The whitewashed bones of a skeletal hand, the evidence of a necromancer's work; the driver was nothing more than a reanimated corpse, hardly sentient, but infinitely more ominous than any living creature by Tivvy's standards. Skeletons were inherently limited puppets subject to the whim of their dark masters--but where was the master? And why had she not sensed the magic required to animate the undead creature? Had she concentrated too hard on the wagon's contents that she had missed the driver?

It was oblivious to her still, the skeleton paused before the rope she had strung between the oaks. The wind whispered warnings to her, but Tivvy would not let opportunity pass. She let go of the branch and dropped onto the forest floor with a muted thud, and glanced at the skeletal frame and its horses. They hadn't noticed.

She tiptoed over to the wagon and cautiously pressed her weight onto a wheel. Any noise it made was masked by a bird's sudden trill, and Tivvy used the noise to lift up the covers and slide underneath. Her short stature allowed her enough room to crawl around the crates without disturbing the cloth above her. Wugg's breath, labored with slumber, drifted into her ears. The current convenience of a nocturnal companion could not be overstated.

Like a spider, Tivvy extended her limbs and crept over to the nearest crate. Now that she knew the cargo's escort was only a skeleton--only a skeleton?--she was willing to commit to a bit more risk. She placed a hand flat against the wood siding and summoned fire, and the insatiable element began at once to burn through the thin walls of the cargo. It was easy enough to snuff out with a couple of deliberate puffs, and Tivvy peeked into the opening to see the contents, just as the wagon set into motion again. The skeleton must have disarmed her simple trap and deemed it appropriate to return on its way.

The first crate was apparently only filled with clothes. Fine silks and linens spilled out of the hole she had created, and Tivvy twisted her lips down with disappointment. To be sure she missed nothing, she pushed her hand in and felt around for any weight or impression of an object, but her fingers closed around only cloth, and she extracted her hand quickly.

Another two crates yielded the same results, and a harrowing frustration pricked at Tivvy. What if this was a decoy? What spellcaster aware of the value of a magical artifact would transport it without guards? But why would there be a skeleton as the driver otherwise? The necromancer must have been terribly smug and self-assured. No matter how peaceful the route, a treasure should never be left unattended. Tivvy was proof of that. She was determined not to leave until she had searched every crate.

The fourth crate was significantly heavier. The opening she made revealed now-singed spines of books clearly related to dark arts. At any other time, Tivvy might have leisurely perused those pages out of curiosity, but she had an increasing feeling that she was running out of time. Hurriedly, she moved on to the next crate.

Prickly, dried straw began to catch fire inside of the fifth box, and Tivvy quickly snatched a flask of water and poured it over the burning strands. The floor of the wagon darkened from the liquid as the fire extinguished, and she breathed out in relief. It might be a thirsty walk back to town, but at least she hadn't given herself away just now.

Through airy straw, her hands finally bumped into something interesting. Smooth, like the surface of a porcelain dish, she recognized it to be the form of a small statue, and Tivvy bit back an elated cry of triumph as she extracted it from the crate. A polished ivory, the sleek figurine depicted a shaggy mountain goat. This was it. This was her target.

With the figurine in hand, Tivvy snuck back to the end of the wagon and dared to peek out from the covers. The wagon was still in motion, but they were no longer in the forest. The familiarity of the trees were a faded mass in the distance, and dark clouds formed overhead, the harbinger of a storm obstructing the last of daylight. Tivvy dared to turn and look over her shoulder, and saw the looming presence of mountains ahead. She had never been this far from town, mostly at Sire Esheren's behest, and she had no desire to go any further than she already had. There was plenty enough to see and do in the safety of the forest, and Tivvy aimed to be back underneath the gentle oaks by nightfall.

She climbed over the walls of the wagon and dropped down from the side, then waited a moment, crouched close to the ground, to see if she would be noticed. But the wagon continued on, the hooded undead oblivious to her, the horses obediently plodding on; and Tivvy didn't wait to see if they would stop. All around her was open field, the path framed by stretches of sweet-smelling grass unevenly cropped down by grazing wildlife, and Tivvy entered the partial covering as she began to sprint back towards the forest.

As halfling folklore went, she had been lucky, Tivvy knew. And while her client would be thrilled to have his possession returned, Tivvy was unsettled at the prospect that a necromancer had been in her town, and doubtlessly would return. It was only a matter of time, with the evidence of her meddling she had left behind unwittingly earning the necromancer's revenge in advance.

"We need to talk to Sire Esheren about this," Tivvy told Wugg, and her friend only now began to stretch and yawn from the comforts of the knapsack, as dusk descended upon them with the first drops of rain.


End file.
